Please tell me what the point in talking to anyone about anything is because I genuinely do not know.

People don’t want to listen. They just want you to talk. To get it out of your system. They don’t seriously care. They don’t know how to respond because they just have no opinion on a matter that does not involve them and that they have no knowledge about.

Take my mother. She doesn’t think that I can be anything but healthy. She thinks I’m pretending or making it all up. There’s nothing mentally wrong with me because I am physically well. She doesn’t think that mental disorders are real, you see, which is hard to deal with seeing as I am full of them. She doesn’t really care about me confiding in her, telling her that I sincerely believe that I have attention deficit hyperactive disorder. “It’s because you’re always on your computer. Because you’ve got so much time on your hands,” she says. “Don’t lie and say you relate to their problems because that will just cause problems for you and everybody around you,” when I tried comforting my friend who was going through an existential crisis. “He’s crazy, stay away from him, be careful or he’ll infect you with his sadness,” she tells me about my friend who had depression. She doesn’t believe me and she also doesn’t believe in conventional medications, so there goes birth control for my irregular period, there goes adderall for my potential ADHD, there goes prozac for my mental instability. No, I just have to fix it all myself, because according to her, I am the reason I am so messed up and I am the reason why my life is a joke. I make myself miserable, according to her. I just have to get a job, do all the house chores, cook the food around here. That’ll fix all my problems.

I know that I am incontrol of my own life, but you know what, maybe it’s the chemical imbalance in my brain, maybe it’s an anatomical problem, one that I actually have no control over. Maybe it’s my hormonal imbalance, but regardless, I need help, and she doesn’t want to find help for me because it’s all on me, and if I can bring it upon myself, I can get myself out of it.

I am so frustrated because she refuses to believe me when I tell her how I feel about things. She just takes the objective data, the stuff that she can see, and judges my wellbeing based on that. The subjective data, how I feel, doesn’t matter. Because to her, I am a cookie-cutter offspring of the human race, the same as everybody else who is normal. To her, I am normal. Nothing else. I should be treated the same way as everybody else, I need to do the same things as everybody else, and be like everybody else, then all my problems will go away.

Why bother. Everybody else has no idea what I’m talking about when I talk about other matters in my life. No one cares about the little details of my life, and I don’t blame them. Everything makes me smile so I can’t expect them to find the happiness I see in the world. I also can’t expect them to have any knowledge about anything in my life, because I can’t expect one person to like politics, religion, school subjects, watch the same shows as me, listen to the same music as me, have similar hobbies, goes to kung fu with me. Yeah, I can find one person for each of these categories, but even then, there are large areas of my life that I feel like I can’t talk about because there’s no one interested; no one understands, no one has any knowledge about. I just want to express myself and my thoughts and my happiness and my emotions but no one gives two cares and so I am stuck writing desperately in my journal, seeking a response that won’t come and comfort that isn’t there.

I’m just so frustrated because I want someone to listen to me and I want someone to actually take my thoughts and opinions into consideration and talk to me, have a conversation with me, not just let me talk at them. I want someone to fricken care, that’s all I fricken ask. I want them to care not because it’s me, I want them to care because it’s something they care about, too.

I just feel so alienated, not just from each and every single person I have interacted with, but in my own body. I feel like I’m not supposed to belong here, and this is all so weird to me, and I don’t understand why.